This Lenten post has been very difficult for me to write, because it involves an examination of a subject that I have always struggled with - prayer.
I have decided to make this post into a set of reflections on a passage from the book Everything Belongs, written by Fr. Richard Rohr. The passage begins thusly: "Prayer is not primarily saying words or thinking thoughts. It is, rather, a stance. It's a way of living in The Presence."
Growing up in a Protestant fundamentalist home, I was taught that prayers in fact were a recitation of words or thoughts. It was supposed to be an improvised verbal communication with God, spontaneous and heart-felt, not read or memorized or recited repetitiously.
My religious tradition even shied away from formal written prayers or recitations like The Apostle's Creed. About the only liturgical prayer that was ever spoken in my Nazarene church was The Lord's Prayer; I suppose that one was okay because Jesus himself prayed it. We also occasionally had congregational “responsive readings,” but we were very careful not to consider these readings actual “prayers.” And we read the liturgical scriptures describing The Last Supper during Communion. But again, this was considered a formal ceremony (like a wedding, where a liturgy is also performed) and not a prayer. We sang the Doxology, but considered it to be a hymn, not a prayer.
Great prayers, then, were great improvisations. I remember an elderly gentleman in our church, Brother Oquain, who could “really pray,” as my mother put it. He had a strong voice and an incredible command of King James English, and he could deliver the most passionate, poetic prayer improvisations that I have ever heard -- “OOOoooooh gracious Heavenly Father. We beseech Thee, O God. Shew Thy mercies upon us. Bless us with Thy Holy Spirit ...” and so on. THAT was great prayer.
So when we rhetorically asked, "How do you pray?", I think what we really wanted to know was how do you develop the skill to deliver that kind of riveting oratory? What we should have been asking was, How do we find The Presence?
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Fr. Rohr continues - "It is, further, a way of living in awareness of the Presence, even enjoying the Presence. The full contemplative is not just aware of the Presence, but trusts, allows, and delights in it."
Contemplation -- how about that! Prayer is not a soapbox for our personal hopes and grievances. It is not a time for us to do the talking. Instead it is a time for us to listen, to be aware. It is a meditative endeavor that requires us to be seekers rather than rhetoricians. It's not really even a conversation, in the sense that we would feel obligated to recite a spiritual grocery list of wants and needs, or a list of divine directives, or a litany of complaints about how poorly the world is treating us, and then sit in impatient silence expecting, no, demanding, a response from God.
So, how do we pray? How do we wind ourselves down, stop the demands and worries and grievances whirling around in our minds, and seek His still, small voice? How do we empty ourselves and enter fully into His Presence?
For two thousand years, Christians have used repetitive, meditative prayers to wash away the grime of everyday life, as a way of focusing their consciousness on the miracles and mysteries surrounding the life of Jesus Christ and birth of the Church through the in-filling of the Holy Spirit:
As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.
Hail Mary, Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of our death. Amen.
O my Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of hell, lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy. Amen.
No complaints. No questions. No directives. Just simple praise, and pleas for mercy, salvation, and, of all things, more prayers. It can't be that simple, can it?
Maybe it is. Maybe the real trick is emptying ourselves, making ourselves vulnerable and inviting His spirit to fully bond with us. The Apostle Paul calls this process sanctification -- yet another term that I have grown to appreciate in a far different way that I was originally taught as a child.
Another one of my favorite Catholic authors, Fr. Henri Nouwen, says: "It requires a lot of inner solitude and silence to become aware of these divine movements. God does not shout, scream, or push. The Spirit of God is soft and gentle like a small voice or a light breeze. It is the spirit of love ... The Spirit of Love says: 'Don't be afraid to let go of your need to control your own life. Let me fulfill the true desire of your heart.'"
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Even if you are not comfortable with repetitive or meditative prayer, let me encourage you to try it anyway. Start with something simple, like "Glory Be To the Father":
As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.
As you repeat the prayer, begin to block out the things in your world that, in turn, block out your ability to feel His presence. Then offer a simple, heart-felt praise. Thank Him for his blessings. Ask Him to heal the sick. Ask for guidance. Then quietly sing The Doxology.
Praise Him all creatures here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
If you are seeking mercy or healing for a loved one, please include those things. But forget about the list of things for you. It's not about you, as a former pastor used to tell us, it's all about Jesus.
May God bless you through your meditative prayer.
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